


The Ploughboy’s Cock(ney)

by tillwehavefaces



Series: Balladfic [1]
Category: Folk Songs, The Ploughboy and the Cockney
Genre: Ambiguous Age, Anal Sex, BAT (Blonds Always Top), Canon Continuation, Class Differences, Dom/sub Undertones, Embedded Audio, First fic in fandom, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Beating, Implied/Referenced Sex Slavery, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rapist-turned-Lover, Rural/Urban Divide, Size Difference, Size Kink, Songfic, Winner Fucks Loser of a Fight, implied/referenced watersports, revenge rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28214874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillwehavefaces/pseuds/tillwehavefaces
Summary: In which the Ploughboy ploughs and the Cockney is cocked: a much more satisfying end (to the song).
Relationships: Ploughboy/Cockney
Series: Balladfic [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066871
Kudos: 4
Collections: Rare Fic, Rare fandoms, Song Based FanFiction





	The Ploughboy’s Cock(ney)

**Author's Note:**

> help I’ve fallen into the world of rewriting old ballads and I can’t get up

## The Story so Far

#### From the Bodleian broadside collection, Harding B 11(632)

_I'll tell you a story of a Londoner of late,_

_Who roved in the country to seek for his mate._

_He put in his pocket three hands full of gold,_

_With his sword by his side to make him look bold._

_He rode till he came to fair Beverley town,_

_Where there he alighted and put up at the Crown._

_A beautiful damsel appeared to his eye,_

_Which caused him to stay all night for to lie._

_He says, my dearest jewel, if thou will be mine,_

_All the gold and the silver I have shall be thine._

_O no, kind sir, now your passion do assuage,_

_For to toy with the plough boy I'm deeply engaged._

_The plough boy standing by and hearing her say so,_

_O now, says the plough boy, I know what I know,_

_For she is the girl which ought for to be mine,_

_But if thou can but gain her then she shall be thine._

_Come, come, you saucy fellow, what makes you for to prate?_

_Stand from under my weapons or I'll break your pate._

_You're some country bumpkin sprung from the plough tail,_

_That never handled a weapon but a whip or a flail._

_Come, come, my brave fellow. Let's go to yonder field._

_We will never give it up until one of us yield,_

_So it never shall be said upon any hard pinch,_

_That the plough boy's afraid for to fight for a wench._

_They fought for half an hour before the company could say,_

_Which of these heroes had won the day,_

_Till at length the young plough boy gave cockney such a fall,_

_Saying now mister cockney, you shall pay for all._

_Here's my gold and my bags. It's all that I have._

_I'll freely give it to you my life for to save,_

_But do not let me in this strange country die,_

_But O carry me to London and there let me lie._

## The Story Continues

#### From my own perverted imagination

‘Oh, I don’t want your bags and I don’t want your gold;

Since with my own sweetheart you have made so bold

I’ll carry you to that haystack and there you shall lie--

There I’ll have satisfaction, although you may die.’

‘Oh I don’t want your gold and I don’t want your bags.'

The Ploughboy, as he spoke, tore Cockney's clothes to rags

Revealing his rump and his pizzler so small

‘With your arse, Mister Cockney, you shall pay for all.’

That Cockney's small cocklet he gave a hard pinch,

Said laughing, ‘Why, lad, you are almost a wench.’

Then he from his trousers drew out his ploughshare

And the size of _that_ weapon would frighten a mare.

‘How now, my London Cockney, why do these tears flow?’

And as he smiling said this, his groin it did grow.

‘You ain’t gained her cunt, but you’ll soon get my cock.’

That organ he spoke of was now hard as rock.

The Cockney was bold and the Cockney was brave,

His sword had sent many a man to his grave,

But this jolly Ploughboy had a sword of his own

And he felt it against him, as rigid as a bone.

He felt that great length shoving into his loins,

The head of that cudgel put up at his coin.

Though many a bird flew away as he wailed,

To rein in a ploughboy in rut naught availed.

‘You rode out from town with your nose in the air

And sneered all around from that dainty grey mare,

With your pockets of gold and your lily-white hide–

Now, legs up, my lad, and we’ll see how you ride!’

The Cockney he ranted, he cursed and he growled

And at this young Ploughboy blue murder he howled

But no threats nor pleas could his passion assuage--

With his long-shafted weapon he ploughed that man-maid.

The Ploughboy ploughed swift, and the Ploughboy ploughed deep

He cockéd that Cockney like a shepherd his sheep

Though the Cockney, he shouted, ‘I yield! I yield!’

He ploughed that fine fellow as he were a field.

And this fair young Ploughboy, this randy young buck,

With his cheeks flushing red in the heat of his fuck,

With his long curls so gold and his long cock so brown,

Made the Cockney lament that he ever left town.

For that country bumpkin, that lusty young male,

He knew how to handle his prick in a tail

That hard-fucking Ploughboy, he knew what he knew

And that poor hapless Cockney, he soon knew it too!

He shivered, he moaned, he bucked and he writhed,

He wriggled, he jiggled, he jumped and he jived,

He panted and foamed, as if parched with thirst

And although he screamed, it was he squirted first!

Then this bold young Ploughboy with earnestness spoke

(Though while he was talking he missed not a stroke)

And his voice as he stroked him was ardent and low;

The Cockney, he shook, like each word was a blow.

‘That beautiful damsel, she shall by my bride

And all through my life she shall be by my side.

But you, my wee cocket, you shall be my strumpet

And I’ll with my horn make you blow like a trumpet.’

And though these rough words had the Cockney enraged

Yet with Ploughboy’s toy he was deeply engaged

‘Ah yes, London jewel, you both shall be mine,

But my _gold_ and _silver_ shall only be thine.’

‘You’ll guzzle my piss and swallow my spend

And all of my troubles I’ll take out on your end.

If my darling grieves me, her beating you’ll take

And if I must thrash her, it’s your arse will bake!’

‘You’ll do just as I say, like a good little whore:

You’ll be on your knees when I walk through the door;

At night you shall sleep at the foot of our bed

And if wifey can’t take it, I’ll wap you instead!’

‘When suppertime comes you’ll be _under_ the table

And swallow your punk-swill as well as you’re able.

I’ll pay you in poundings: ten swivings a week,

And no other wage, I will wager, you’ll seek.’

Now that dandy Cockney could not but agree

And although he groaned, his heart filled with glee

For from that young Ploughboy he'd had such a fall

That he never again wanted women at all.

That boy, and his bride, and his bitch, live in bliss

And although spend he swallows and guzzles down piss,

That Cockney, it’s said, wore never a frown

Since the day he alighted at Beverley town.

Now all you bold cockneys, hear what I relate,

Pay heed to this fellow; attend to his fate!

And never you rove out into the strange country

Or there you may suffer some frightful effrontery!

For if in that place you do bide and you tarry

And cast out your eye, and do seek one to marry

Some ploughboy may pluck you for that marital state,

And you, like this Cockney, will find yourself _his_ mate!


End file.
